


Revival

by network



Series: first light (and the dawn that never ends) [1]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: First Meetings, Gen, Name choosing, Resurrection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 12:16:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21374002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/network/pseuds/network
Summary: a Ghost finds his Guardian, and they both find their names
Relationships: Guardian & Ghost, Taevas Sinine & Unelema
Series: first light (and the dawn that never ends) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1322786
Kudos: 18





	Revival

First Light shivers – then pauses. That shiver – it isn’t from the utter _cold_ of the Cosmodrome, from the snow falling in sheets around him. Nor is it from fear of the Fallen, getting far too close for comfort. No, that shiver is from the feeling he’s only ever had described to him, by Ghosts that have already found their Guardians. A pinprick of Light, a tiny tug on the very centre, the very core, of his being.

His Guardian.

He’s found them.

The Ghost takes a moment to calm himself, reminding himself that this could just be a false positive, that he might not have found them, but something in his very core is yelling “this is it”. He drifts closer to the line of rusted-out car frames, forcing himself to scan over each wind-eroded skeleton, even though every time he knew it wasn’t _right_.

Then – that’s it.

_Slow_. He reminds himself. _You’re setting yourself up for failure._

Closer still.

_There_.

On instinct, he reaches out with his Light, and pure _joy_ flits through him as his Light starts to bond with the centuries-old remains, flowing over cracked enamel as he carefully knits his Guardian back together. He pauses when he gets to their mind – there’s conflict in their brain, a split between what they remember of their physical form and what they believed their physical form should’ve been.

He’s heard of this before, too. The usual name for it in humans is transgender, but, in Guardians, it’s a little different. He brushes past it, focusing solely on how his Guardian saw themselves – no, herself – rather than the original sex of her long-dead body.

First’s shell flits excitedly as blue-green skin is revealed, like a spread of seaweed-stained ocean. The surface is dull, not yet underlit by Awoken starlight, until he gives her one last burst of his – _their_ – Light.

And she gasps awake.

Amber eyes are blown open wide in shock, starlight suddenly coalescing across her cheeks. “I – I did it.” First murmurs, amazed. “You’re really here.” He takes a moment to compose himself as she blinks up at him, confused.

The roar of a Fallen, far too close to them, prompts him into action. “Right, okay, chat later. We need to get you some cover and a weapon before the Fallen find us and tear us limb from limb.” He phases into her, and he tries his best to ignore the panic he can feel radiating from her through their bond, opting for reassurances instead.

“Don’t worry, I’m still here. I’m not leaving you.”

\--

His Guardian has paused, eyes fixed on the ancient object she’d pulled out from a heap of rubble, the old light blue and silver leather only just visible from the scrap.

“What is it?” She asks, voice hushed as she turns it over in her hands, opening it to a seemingly random page.

“An old novella.” He answers, a little unsure. “Pre Golden age. It’s in a long-dead language, but I can pick out some of the words.”

Footsteps echoing above them in the tunnels have them both tensing, First transmatting the book into his inventory and phasing into sub-space.

“There’s an old Arcadia-class jumpship nearby. If we can get it working it should get us closer to the City, at the very least.”

“Why do we need to get to this ‘City’?” She asks through their shared bond as she hops over a pile of debris.

“We don’t need to, technically.” He replies, watching as she takes out a Dreg with a well time hand-cannon shot to the face. “But it’s safe there, a good place to take a break every once in a while. And there are people there that can get you training, and actual armour, rather than whatever _that_ is.”

She glances down at her heavily damaged golden-age armour, with its thick sleeves and various control panels and wires. “Blame past-me. I’d never wear this blue.” She pauses to dodge the incoming blast of a scorch cannon. “It clashes with my skin.”

He sighs. “Yeah, _that’s_ the issue.”

\--

She glances around the small apartment she’s been given curiously, drifting to the window in her bedroom and hopping up onto the set-in windowsill, leaning forward on her knees to stare up at the form of the Traveler from where it watches over the City.

“Who am I, Ghost?”

“I’m not sure yet.” He admits. “But we’ll figure it out, apparently it always takes some time.” There’s a pause between them when he remembers the book from earlier.

Transmatting it onto her lap, he hovers over her shoulder. “Would you like to pick a name?”

She looks up at him, confused. “Where would I even start with finding a name?” Her voice is sad, almost, and the corners of his shell droop. Taking some advice from the other Ghosts, he settles in her lap as a show of comfort and support.

“Why not take one from that book of yours?”

She hums quietly, and he drifts up to her shoulder as she opens it to a seemingly random page. A few more page turns later, and she speaks up again.

“What does that word mean?” She asks quietly, indicating to the serif font.

_ Taevas._

“Hmm.. heavens, apparently.” He drifts backwards to study his Guardian. “It fits you…”

“I.. I like it.”

The moment hangs between them as First stores it in his memory for forever, the moment his Guardian starts to become a full person, in both of their eyes.

“Most people have a surname too.” He starts cautiously, breaking the moment. “It’s usually a family name, but there’s no shame in creating your own.”

“What about this?” She asks, pointing to another word. ‘Sinine’, this one reads.

“Blue.” He laughs. “It’s certainly fitting, isn’t it?”

At that she laughs too, and he brightens, optic fixing on the sight of the corners of her eyes crinkling in mirth, her hand coming up to cover her mouth. Then she blinks and turns to him.

“Would you like a name?”

He pauses at that, unsure of how to respond. “Well... the other Ghosts call me First. For First Light. But… yes. I’d- I’d like a proper name.”

She quietly flicks through more pages, before her fingers hover above a word, and he flits closer to read it.

_Unelema._

“Dream.” He murmurs. “It means to dream.”

“El.” She whispers, holding out her palm for him to softly settle onto. “Taevas and El.”


End file.
